“American Democracy: A Paradox”

[In response to I Still Believe In My Country And My Party]

Thank you for your service. 

For the Games of the XXX Olympiad (i.e. 2012 London Summer Olympics), I found myself standing in my living room in Sydney, Australia. I had only been living in the land down under for a few weeks and a strong sense of emotion came over me when I heard the announcers say to cheers, “And here come the Americans!” As I watched this multiethnic delegation process into London Stadium, a tear rolled down my face as I noticed that the Aussie announcer made no mention of a hyphen. There was no mention of the hyphen by which we Americans divide one another on a daily basis. There was no mention of African-Americans, no mention of Hispanic-Americans, no mention of Asian-Americans, no mention of Caucasian-Americans; just Americans. For the first time in my life, I was not African-American or Hispanic-American, I was solely an American; a patriot on foreign soil.     

Over the last six years, I’ve studied to gain a deeper understanding – beyond what I was already taught in school – of American history. I’ve lost myself in various books and documentaries on how we have arrived at this place in history. I too, arrived at the conclusion that the founding documents of this Democratic experiment, known as the United States of America, was truly brilliant as you put it. 

However, as I began to place myself throughout brilliant moments in American history I began to wonder what life would’ve been like then. I wondered what would life be like as a New Yorker in 1776, what would life be like to experience a young nation expand its territory in the early 1800s, what would life be like to see the first photographs in the 1850s, what would life be like to experience a nation take up arms against itself in 1861, what would life be like to witness her began to heal her wounds during the Reconstruction in 1865, what would life be like to hear about human beings taking flight for the first time at Kitty Hawk in 1903, what would life be like to experience this young nation embrace globalism and join its Allies in fighting the first World War in 1914, what would life be like to experience Americans flocking to cinemas to watch the nation’s first blockbuster film, Birth of a Nation in 1915, what would life be like to hear FDR announce the New Deal in the 1930s, what would life be like to experience Pearl Harbor and subsequently increase our participation in World War II in 1941, what would life be like to see my hero, Jackie Robinson, break MLBs color barrier at Ebbets Field, Brooklyn in 1947, what would life be like to see that New Deal become the engine of American prosperity in the 1950s post WWII, what would life be like to experience human beings landing on the moon and the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s…

Sadly as I placed myself throughout American history, racism quickly ended my moments of wonderment.

Fast forward to the present and the meteor sized crater of income inequality between blacks and whites, the value of public education in lower socioeconomic neighborhoods, law enforcements disproportionate violence against black bodies, Flint Michigan still not having clean water, 4,645 Puerto Ricans dying in the absence of federal leadership, and the immense pressure that the current President is placing on the cornerstones of this Democratic experiment.

I can’t help but vacillate between being in awe of the brilliance of her ideological words and ashamed of her deeds.

As a black American, I can not bring myself to fully align and endorse Conservative approaches to the antiquated Documents by which we are governed. And with that being said, given that we are still governed by this paradoxical Document, I cannot accept America’s misconception that her values are morally superior to any other nation until she exemplifies those values in not only her words but in her deeds to all her citizens; specifically her citizens of color.    

While this nation has had brilliant moments in its 242-year history, the backdrop has always been and will always be racism and the relentless preservation of white supremacy. So while I wish I could live my daily life in that tearful patriotic moment I had in Sydney; the consciousness of our collective experience impacts my ability to do so. In fact, immediately upon my return from Sydney in 2013, America found George Zimmerman not guilty in the murder of Trayvon Martin. So in a way, I am envious of your privilege to still believe in country and party but I, unfortunately, am unable to join you on that perch.

My patriotism lives in the steely resolve of my community and the soaring indelible impact that we have had on American history and culture. 

How do you define your patriotism?